


Never Let Go

by stilinski_wolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Stiles, Canon-Compliant, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Post-Series, or there abouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7541842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinski_wolf/pseuds/stilinski_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles meets Derek at a motel after talking to each other for months on the phone. Stiles is ready to be with Derek, in every way. And in this instance, that way is the intimate way. </p><p>Needless to say, having sex with Derek is an amazing experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Let Go

_January 25th, 2013_

Stiles had left a note for his dad.

And then he had packed, closed his bedroom door, note taped to it, and then left.

Things had been strained for a long time between them, but that didn’t mean his dad didn’t deserve to know where he was going and that he would be back.

It was just for a couple days.

If his ailing jeep actually got him there, that is.

And Stiles couldn’t stop fidgeting, reaching for the broken radio player and fiddling with the nob, tapping his long, slender fingers on the steering wheel, his left leg jiggling.

The jeep puffed and wheezed it’s way down the highway, down the streets, around blocks, into the parking lot. When Stiles had it come to a stuttering halt, it coughed, white steam billowing out of the hood. Ah, fuck.

Well, Stiles would deal with it later. For once, his jeep could wait.

It was as nice as a motel as motels could get, a far cry from the disastrous “Motel Capri” or whatever the hell it’s name had been. It had only been a year and a half ago, but it felt like it had been even longer since then, a lifetime since. Boyd had still been alive.

Stiles sighed, an ache forming in his chest, which he tried to push away as he made his way to the room.

He went up the stairs, then he turned to the long stretch of doors, and then halfway down, Stiles stopped.

Stiles cleared his throat, took a moment to gather himself, and then knocked softly.

It was only a few moments before it opened, Derek standing there, a fairly calm, albeit excited look on his face at the same time.

Stiles tried not to grin.

“Hey, come in,” Derek said, and stepped aside.

Stiles walked passed Derek, brushed the backs of his fingers against the fingers of Derek’s left hand, which was hanging limply at his side, and then came fully into the room, tossing his bag aside as he looked at the single, full sized bed in front of him.

Stiles heard the soft click of the door closing and turned slowly to face Derek.

Derek had already been looking at Stiles, hazel green eyes expressing more than Stiles thought he would ever see.

“Did you tell your dad?” Derek murmured, coming to stand close to Stiles, so close that Stiles’ body zinged in acute awareness.

“That I was meeting you? Yes, I left a note-” Stiles ignored Derek’s look and sigh “-but did I tell him I was meeting you to have sex with you?” Stiles raised an eyebrow, and Derek remained silent but judgmental. “No.”

“Blunt,” Derek said simply, raising an eyebrow in return.

Stiles shrugged, and then let the grin go this time, unable to look away from Derek. “So…”

“So,” Derek said, and then he was right there, his mouth close to Stiles’, hovering.

“Are we going to exchange pleasantries or get right to it?” Stiles asked, the words having come out breathy and shaky. Stiles felt the anticipation lick through his body, and he shivered.

“Well, I think we’ve already done all the talking we need to do for right now.” Derek’s hands settled on Stiles’ hips, and Stiles swallowed past the lump in his throat.

Stiles nodded, agreeing. They’d spent months upon months of talking over the phone, over texts. Stiles felt like he knew Derek even better than when he’d been in Beacon Hills. Stiles felt like he already knew some of the most intimate details about Derek. Except for the details of his body. That, Stiles wanted to get to know right then and there.

“Just one question,” Derek murmured, his lips so, so close to Stiles’. The air between them was charged and thick, strong with hunger for each other.

“Yeah,” Stiles whispered, inclining his head to accept the coming kiss. His first kiss with Derek, ever. The anticipation was killing him. Just one more inch, and then -

“How do you want it?” Derek whispered, and that stopped Stiles up short. How did he want it?

Stiles bit his lip, considered the possibilities, and just the images his mind conjured were enough to make him fully hard.

“You fucking me,” Stiles whispered, his ass clenching at just the thought. He wanted Derek inside him so badly it almost hurt.

Derek nodded, a determined glint coming into his eyes.

And then they were kissing.

Stiles immediately drowned in Derek’s kiss, in the touch of his lips to his, sank into it willingly, desperately.

Their hands couldn’t stop touching each other, everywhere. Stiles’ hands were clutching Derek’s hair in his fists, then they were holding onto the back of his neck, then they were touching his arms, his back, under his shirt to his muscled chest - Stiles tried and failed not to whimper at the feeling of Derek’s muscles under his hands. Goddamn. - around to Derek’s ass. Derek’s were around Stiles’ waist, then cupping his ass, all the while pulling him closer to Derek’s body, then at his back, then one hand was taking Stiles’ hair and pulling, making him moan as Derek detached from their frantic kisses to lick, suck, kiss along his neck. Stiles closed his eyes in ecstasy.

Derek started to move Stiles toward the bed, and they never stopped kissing, never stopped touching each other, the heat between their bodies rising as they gave into attraction.

All the doubts Stiles had been having that their emotional attachment and attraction wouldn’t translate into the physical were smashed to dust as their frantic desire gave way.

Stiles could barely breathe through their long, hard, captivating kisses.

Derek moaned as he pulled away, and Stiles gasped and then groaned at the loss of Derek.

But then Derek pushed Stiles back onto the bed, and then before Stiles could move, Derek was kneeling over Stiles, taking his hips and then practically carrying Stiles up the bed to the pillows.

Stiles moaned loudly at the manhandling, felt himself go even harder. Yes, Stiles wanted more of that.

“Give it to me rough and fast, Derek. Please,” Stiles whispered into Derek’s ear, and then gave it a lick from the top, down to his ear lobe, and Derek shuddered.

Derek pulled back to do just that, tearing off his own shirt quickly and then standing up off the bed to make quick work of his jeans.

Stiles watched, enraptured.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles gasped as Derek stripped, naked as the day he was born, standing there to let Stiles look his fill. “You’re beautiful,” Stiles said, and Derek blushed and looked down, not hiding himself, even though he look like he wanted to. Derek was hot and sexy, of course, but he wasn’t just that. He didn’t just look like the perfect man to cater to the general population so they’d have an image to masturbate to. He was genuinely, honestly beautiful in Stiles’ eyes. Every inch of him was.

And Stiles loved him.

But Stiles wasn’t ready to say that, felt his heart beating wildly at the thought.

“Undress me?” Stiles inquired, laying back on the pillows.

And Derek did, having Stiles sit up to take off his shirt, and while Stiles felt self-conscious, he didn’t let himself cover up, either. Derek deserved at least that from him. Stiles had already willingly stripped himself naked emotionally, and vice versa. Being physically naked in front of Derek was nothing compared to that.

Derek gently lifted Stiles’ hips to pull down his jeans, taking Stiles’ boxer briefs with them, and Stiles’ erection sprang free out of it’s confines.

The roughness and immediacy of moments before were paused as they took the time to admire each other.

The lights were on, they could see every part of each other, and when their eyes met, they could see everything that was inside them, too.

Stiles felt like he’d never been this far, with anyone. He felt like a virgin. And in some ways, he was. And he was a virgin in what they were about to do, as well. Really, anything that he did with Derek would feel like the first time, anyway. And Derek was all that mattered, in the end.

Derek slid up Stiles’ body, slotting them together as if they were puzzle pieces fitting together to complete a puzzle, and Stiles shuddered, hands coming to rest on Derek’s back as he fit his hips between Stiles’ legs.

It brought their cocks together, and Stiles gasped at the sensation of a cock, of Derek’s cock, sliding along his.

“Rough and fast,” Derek breathed, and then he was kissing Stiles again.

Stiles moaned, and as Derek started grinding his hips down into Stiles’, Stiles ground back, and they set a rhythm going as their kisses intensified, as Derek grabbed Stiles’ hair and clutched it rough, using his grip to pull Stiles’ lips all the closer to his. The dual sensations were intoxicating.

Stiles felt more present with Derek than he had with anything or anyone in months, and Stiles couldn’t get enough of the heady sensations coursing through his body.

Stiles pulled back for air, gasping as Derek just moved to Stiles neck and continued on the hickey he’d started earlier.

“Oh fuck,” Stiles gasped. Derek’s cock was sliding even harder and faster against Stiles’, and his stomach was a quivering, full of butterflies mess. His hands were clenched on Derek’s back, up by his shoulder blades. “Derek, if you don’t st-stop and get me ready, I’ll come before you can get inside me!” Stiles moaned, almost not caring at this point. It felt too good to stop. Stiles tightened his grip around Derek’s thighs and thrust harder, causing Derek moan and bite down Stiles’ neck. “Ah!” Stiles practically shouted, one hand going Derek’s hair and holding him at his neck. Stiles whimpered. “Derek!” Stiles gasped out, eyes rolling back in his head as Derek thrust against him. He felt the wetness of their pre-come mixing together on their stomachs. “God,” Stiles elongated the word as Derek brought him close to the edge so quickly.

“Mm,” Derek murmured, licking up to Stiles lips and then kissing him again.

And then he was pulling away, and Stiles squeaked at the abrupt loss of sensation. His cock was incredibly hard, and as he looked down at it, he saw that it was red, practically purple at the head, and pre-come was sliding down it’s sides.

“I’m gonna fuck you before you come,” Derek said at Stiles’ bewildered look. Stiles wiggled at his words, spreading his legs in anticipation. Derek chuckled at the sight, although it was strangled with his own impossibly hard arousal.

Derek stumbled to his own bag at the desk in the room, procuring a bottle of lube and and a condom.

Derek came onto the bed, tossing the condom to the side, which Stiles grabbed and said, “I wanna put it on you,” at Derek’s confused look.

Derek grinned, and then he was kneeling between Stiles’ spread thighs, pouring lube onto his fingers and then rubbing his fingers together, no doubt warming it up. Stiles bit his lip, affection soaring through him at how considerate a lover Derek was. Lover, oh god, Stiles was saying that word in his head now. Damn.

Then Derek was taking Stiles’ hips, grabbing the unused pillow to slide under them once they were lifted off the bed. See, considerate.

Stiles grinned, opening his legs even wider, exposing himself for Derek to see.

Derek took his time prepping him, being thorough, so thorough that Stiles was afraid he was going to pop again before Derek could get inside him. Derek worked up to four, fucking four fingers, stretching Stiles wide, and Stiles was keening, hips raising up off the bed to meet Derek’s fingers, and at least two of them were hitting Stiles right there, over and over again so that Stiles was seeing stars.

Stiles garbled out something resembling words, his practically limp hands reaching for Derek’s arm. “D-Derek!”

“Ready?” Derek breathed, and he was painfully hard. Stiles wanted to suck him off badly, but would wait on that. He needed Derek inside him. Wanted Derek inside him.

“Fuck yes!” Stiles gasped out, blindly reaching for the condom and tearing it open with shaky fingers.

Derek twisted all four fingers once more, and Stiles shouted out almost dropping the condom, but them he was slowly, oh so slowly, carefully, withdrawing them. “M-motherfuckers,” Stiles moaned, feelings his legs shake from the pleasure. Derek had also been holding onto the base of Stiles’ cock while he fingered him to keep him from coming, and now he let go, and Stiles almost whimpered in relief. It hurt to keep yourself from coming.

Sweat dripped into Stiles’ eyes, and he could feel it all over his body too as he shakily sat up and reached to put the condom on Derek.

“How did you know what size to get,” Stiles said as he rolled the condom on Derek.

“I got both our sizes,” Derek said simply, and Stiles had to laugh. Always come prepared, they always said.

The words I love you were so close to coming past Stiles’ lips that he had to clamp them shut, focusing on getting the condom on properly.

“We good?” Derek said, voice strangled, Stiles hoped, from his hand being on Derek’s cock.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Stiles nodded and laid back, practically presenting his ass to Derek.

Derek came over Stiles, and they looked at each other as Derek reached down to position his cock at Stiles’ entrance.

“Do it,” Stiles said in response to the question in Derek’s eyes.

“You sure?” Derek said, having to know. Stiles smiled, reached up a hand to cup Derek’s cheek. Those fucking words threatened to come up and out of his mouth again, like vomit.

“Yes,” Stiles said. “I want it.”

He was eighteen now. He wasn’t a baby. He loved Derek. He was ready. Beyond ready.

“I want you,” Stiles finished and that was what Derek had needed to hear, Stiles guessed, because then he was slowly pushing into Stiles, not looking away from Stiles’ eyes, from his face, watching attentively.

Stiles wasn’t sure when was the last time he had felt so loved.

Damn you, Derek Hale, Stiles thought as he gasped, head falling back, eyes closing, as Derek pushed in halfway.

It hurt, even after Derek thoroughly prepping him, but he put his hands on Derek’s ass and pulled him in deeper when Derek paused, seeing the pain on his face.

“It’s okay, Derek,” Stiles breathed, opening his eyes to look up at Derek as he spoke. “It’s supposed to hurt a little, especially for a first time. Don’t stop.”

Stiles could see that Derek was holding back, could see how tightly bunched up his muscles were, how he was forcing himself to go slow. Stiles loved him all the more for it.

When Derek was all the way in, he paused, and Stiles shifted his hips in mild discomfort. Derek rested his head in the crook of Stiles’ neck, breathing rough and stilted.

Stiles didn’t know if five minutes passed or thirty, but soon enough the pain was fading, and Stiles was left feeling deliciously full. His cock had been flagged to half mass at the initial pain and discomfort, but as it bled away into pleasure, it started to fill back up to full hardness.

“Move,” Stiles whispered into Derek’s hair. He had wanted rough and fast. It was time for it. “Rough and fast,” Stiles reminded Derek.

Of course, Derek moved slowly at first, building Stiles up to it.

“Faster,” Stiles murmured in Derek’s ear as the pleasure started to build. That mad hunger he’d felt for Derek not to long ago returned in full force, almost suffocating him with wanting. “Harder, Derek, come on. It doesn’t hurt anymore, I can take it.”

Derek picked up his pace, but wasn’t going fast and rough, and Stiles moaned at the feeling of Derek’s cock rubbing back and forth inside him, sending his nerve endings tingling, but needed, no, wanted more.

“Come on, Derek,” Stiles moaned. “Fuck me hard. Make me scream, make me come so hard I see stars. Destroy me,” Stiles said harshly, and then he dug his fingernails into Derek’s ass and and pushed Derek into him, making Derek shudder and moan in succession. “I can take it,” and sensing what Derek needed to finally let loose, Stiles whispered right into Derek’s ear, “I want it.”

“Fuck, Stiles!” Derek gasped, and then, and then, Derek let go.

He pulled back enough from Stiles to grab his arms and pin them to the side of his head, and then grab his hips roughly, arching Stiles up to the right angle, and then thrusting, once, hard into Stiles.

Stiles moaned wantonly, and arched into Derek’s hands, cock hard and aching, bending back toward his stomach, it was so hard.

“Again!” Stiles shouted, and Derek moaned loudly and started pounding into Stiles.

All bets were off.

Stiles’ shouts echoed off the motel walls, and Stiles was steeped in insane pleasure, and took the pounding eagerly.

Derek started to hit his prostate too, and Stiles was pretty sure he was seeing stars.

Derek didn’t stop, didn’t let up, didn’t even pause for a breather.

Their moans mingled together in the air, and Stiles alternated from looking down his body at his bouncing cock, at where Derek was thrusting in and out of him, and at his legs wrapped tightly around Derek’s waist, to letting his head roll back, eyes closing, and focus entirely on the mind-numbing pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, yes, YES!” Stiles shouted, hands fisting in the pillow under his head, clutching it tightly as his orgasm came closer and closer, feeling it pool in his gut. His heart was beating erratically in his chest, the sweat had multiplied on his face, on his chest, his legs, and his was moving his hands from clutching the pillow case to clutched his locks of hair and tugging on them.

“God, fuck, fuck me, yes, fuck!” Stiles moaned, and Derek moaned high and loud, and then he dropped on top of Stiles again, still holding Stiles’ hips at an angle to hit the right spot, and Stiles was so, so close, he just needed -

Derek grabbed his cock and twisted, and that was it, that was all it took for him to come in thick, long streaks, his come landing on his chest, and he came so hard it even reached his chin.

Stiles was whimpering, writhing on Derek’s cock as Derek let out a string of curses that put Stiles’ cursing to shame, and pounded hard into Stiles one, two, three more times before stilling and coming hard inside Stiles.

“Oh god,” Stiles choked out, shaking as Derek collapsed into a heap on top of him.

“Fuck,” Derek whispered, voice cracking as he did so.

Their breath was labored and loud, the only sound now in the otherwise quiet room.

Stiles didn’t think he was completely, all the way there yet, he’d come so hard, and he was just kind of, spread out, with a heavy body on top and still inside him.

If this was the last thing Stiles ever did, well, what a way to go.

“Mm,” Derek grunted, and Stiles came back to himself when he felt small, soft kisses against his neck.

Shakily, he raised a hand to Derek’s hair and slowly carded his fingers through it, his other arm coming up to wrap around Derek’s shoulder. Stiles’ licked his lips, cleared his throat and slowly opened his eyes.

Eventually, Derek pulled out with what little strength he had, and Stiles winced slightly at the feeling, and then his ass clenched at how empty it felt without Derek’s cock in it.

Stiles was still shaking with aftershocks from his orgasm as Derek groaned and rolled off Stiles, onto his back.

“Well,” Stiles breathed out, and he had to clear his throat at how scratchy his voice sounded and felt. “That was…something.”

Derek laughed shakily. “Yeah, I’ll say.”

“Fuck,” Stiles surmised, and Derek laughed again.

They lay there, recovering, their bodies slowly cooling off.

Stiles saw Derek pull off the condom, tie it together and then toss it into the waste basket at the side of the bed.

Then Derek groaned and rolled onto his side, into Stiles.

Stiles scooted over some to reach Derek as well, and they came together, Derek resting his head on Stiles’ chest, leg moving to wrap itself around Stiles’, and then he reached up with his right hand to twine his fingers with Stiles’ left, and Stiles wrapped his right arm around Derek’s shoulders this time.

“That had to be the best sex I’ve ever had,” Stiles said, breaking the quiet between them.

Derek laughed, then sighed, leaning up to kiss Stiles softly, slowly. “Me too,” Derek admitted when he pulled back, and then he rest his head back on Stiles’ chest.

They fell asleep like that, the light still on, the covers pushed to the bottom of the bed, and the far away sound of traffic through the closed windows.

They woke wound together tightly, and after Derek suggested they shower together, it took them close to forty minutes to finish. Stiles wanted some time with Derek’s ass, and he rimmed Derek thoroughly until the man was practically sobbing, and he came with Stiles’ hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him, while his tongue was buried deep in Derek’s ass. After that, Derek pushed Stiles up against the wall and blew him until Stiles came, his feet slipping on the water surface of the shower, Derek’s fingers buried in Stiles’ ass.

They flopped down onto the bed, naked but dry, sated, both on their stomachs, both resting their head on a pillow, staring at each other.

After awhile, Stiles said lowly, “you’re not coming back with me, are you?”

Derek simply shook his head.

Stiles sighed, nodding.

“And you’re not coming with me,” Derek said.

Stiles nodded again, sighing as he looked at Derek.

“Are you happy in New York?” Stiles murmured, and Derek seemed to contemplate it for a moment.

“As happy as I can be, I guess,” Derek said. “I feel…lighter, though. Like some huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.”

Stiles smiled, and without really thinking about it, Stiles lifted his hand up, traced Derek’s lips softly before he cupped Derek’s face, thumb stroking his cheek. “I’m happy for you, then.”

Derek smiled gently, reached up and took Stiles’ hand in his, lifting it off his face to twine their fingers together. “You’ll get out, too. Just a few more months. You could…you could come to New York then.”

But Stiles was already shaking his head. “I have to be close to my dad, Derek.”

Derek nodded. “You know he would want what’s best for you.”

“And what’s best for me is to get a good education and still be close enough to be there for him, no matter what.”

Derek nodded again, accepting Stiles’ words without a thought to fighting them. “Berkeley is your dream school.”

“You could move there,” Stiles said, trying to keep the hope out of his voice and failing.

Derek sighed, eyes sad, pained. “I can’t, Stiles. It’s…it’s too close. It’s too soon for me, I’m not-not…”

“Ready,” Stiles finished, accepting Derek’s words without a thought to fighting them either.

Derek nodded.

“We can meet in the middle again,” Stiles whispered, and Derek nodded, his eyes lighting up at the prospect.

“Every year,” Derek murmured. “If we can’t do it several times, at least once. We have to make sure to see each other at least once a year.”

Stiles nodded, agreeing.

Stiles pulled up their joined hands and kissed the back of Derek’s. “I won’t be with anyone else,” Stiles promised. “I won’t want anyone else. As far as I’m concerned, I’m committed to you.”

“Stiles,” Derek warned. “You can’t promise me that-“

“Yes, I can,” Stiles said firmly, looking up into Derek’s eyes as he said it. “I know I won’t want anyone else while we’re…what we are,” Stiles said, wishing he could call Derek his boyfriend.

“You know I won’t be with anyone else, either, Stiles, but you’ll be going to college, you’ll be getting away from the hell that Beacon Hills has put you through, it’s a rite of passage-“

“Fuck that,” Stiles scoffed. “I want you. Just you.”

Derek quieted, staring at Stiles. A small, hopeful smile sprung to his lips.

“Now stop trying to get me to screw around on you, okay?”

Derek smiled, a small, happy smile. “Okay.”

Stiles leaned over and kissed Derek.

~*~

Stiles and Derek left the next morning, and Stiles was happy to see his jeep had stopped steaming. They kissed at his car, deeply, thoroughly, passionately.

Stiles sighed when they parted, hating that they had to leave.

“I’ll see ya,” Stiles murmured, and Derek nodded, pulled back and dropped Stiles’ hand, turning to head to his own car. Stiles watched him go, and then forced himself to turn and get into his car.

His dad yelled at him when he got home, but Stiles didn’t care. It had been worth it.

~*~

Every year after that, they met up once a year, and it almost became a tradition, and each year they’d spend more time together. During Stiles’ first year of college during winter break, they spent three days together. During his Sophomore year, they spent five days together, during his Junior year they spent a whole week together, and they called each other, texted, skyped as often as they could. They kept in constant contact, and Stiles only fell more in love with Derek over the years.

But still, they stayed at opposite ends of the country.

And they still hadn’t said “I love you” to each other, no matter how much Stiles wanted to.

During Stiles’ senior year, it was different. Stiles would be graduating. His dad was doing well. Things were finally, finally, after six years, calming down after Stiles, Scott and everyone finally figured out how to quiet the Nemeton again, how to turn it off, basically. It had been a whole hell of a lot harder than Stiles thought it was going to be.

In a few short months, Stiles could go anywhere.

And they didn’t meet in the middle that year.

Derek came to Beacon Hills, right to Stiles’ doorstep.

“I was ready,” Derek said, shrugging as Stiles stood there, dumbfounded. Then he had attacked Derek with kisses, basically climbing him like a tree and hanging off of him like a monkey as his dad stood there and watched, rolling his eyes.

Just a few more months.

~*~

_May 23rd, 2017_

Stiles graduated with honors, and he gave the speech, and everyone was there. His dad, Scott, Lydia, the whole pack. And Derek.

Scott had looked shocked to see Derek, who he hadn’t seen in years, although he had known Derek and Stiles were in some sort of relationship. Lydia grinned and hugged Derek, who looked shocked at the affection, and Kira smiled and tripped on her way to hug Derek as well.

After he walked across the stage, Stiles eyes sought out Derek in the crowd, and he ran to him, laughed as Derek picked him up around the waist and spun him around.

Stiles was set down on his feet eventually, and after a long, hard kiss, Stiles pulled back, feeling breathless.

“I did it.”

“You did it,” Derek grinned, kissing Stiles again.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders, sighed in contentment when Derek wrapped his arms around his waist.

And it was so simple, so easy, so natural, to look into Derek’s eyes and say, “I love you.”

It was as simple as that. Stiles had been in love with Derek for years, and it had just felt right to say it in that moment, the crowd and cheers around them a dull roar in his ears, as if he was hearing it all through the wall of his apartment, like when you hear the faint thumping of music sometimes from someone else’s apartment.

And Derek smiled back and said, “I love you, too.”

Stiles didn’t question it, because he knew that, too, had felt it every time they were together, intimately or otherwise, had felt it every time they talked, whispered in each other’s ears and told each other their deepest fears, their deepest desires, their most held onto secrets.

Derek was it for him, as simply as it was complicated. His love for Derek came so simply, so easily, even as the love itself was wound deep in complications, in hurt, in pain, in fights and hard, angry words as much as it was wound together in happiness and contentment and smiles and endearments and joy.

It was everything Stiles had even hoped for but never dreamed for himself.

They held onto each other as they kissed, Stiles’ diploma slipping from his fingers as they got lost in each other.

Stiles’ dad picked it up, cleared his throat, and smirked at them when they broke apart.

Stiles laughed until he cried, holding Derek close and planning to never let him go, ever again.


End file.
